SCRIP-BITS

 Ah Friends, I know we were to continue with the Lord’s Prayer, but the Lord dictated a change of plans. It’s another time of mourning for the Brown family, that wonderful group of people who adopted me when I first went to Jamaica as a student at the U.W.I campus at Mona. The Matriarch, Aunt Amy, passed away earlier this year, now the Patriarch, Uncle Aubs, has also gone to be with the Lord. Ah Uncle Aubs, you’ll never know, and I doubt you can fathom my appreciation for the kindness, the unconditional LOVE, you and Aunt Ames, showed me. I guess when you all talk to the Father in heaven, He’ll explain what a godsend you were to me. I always admired your quiet demeanour. You never said a whole lot, didn’t lose your cool, just let Aunt Ames be the fiery one. Your temperament balanced hers nicely. That doesn’t mean you were a push over, far from it. It’s just that if things were running smoothly, you were smart enough not to interfere. And even when you all disagreed, you were never loud, or obnoxious, but your displeasure was quite evident. I remember the days when you and I were the only two males in the house, surrounded by at least six females. We never had as many one and one chats, as I did with Aunt Ames, but the few we had were always insightful. Come to think of it Uncle Aubs, you were the only man I’ve ever had a close, fatherly sort of relationship with. My real father and I never saw eye to eye, though now I’m beginning to appreciate him much more than I ever did. I guess age and hindsight do bring reason. Like you, he didn’t talk much, was cool and reserved, but friendly, wasn’t given to loud arguments either. But we just had different opinions on most subjects. I do believe that a bit of you rubbed off on me, for I was just approaching manhood, still wet behind the ears, my first time being so far away from home, knowing no one, in a fairly different society setup, when I came under your caring umbrella. I’m sure, subconsciously, I’ve modeled some aspects of my life on you, especially that of living the last thirty odd years, surrounded by a bevy of women. Hn! This time though I was the only man, and I doubt I’ve been as successful as you were. My patience level was never as high as yours, and they still don’t listen to me anyway. (smile) Obviously I didn’t learn well enough from you. Uncle Aubs, you weren’t a saint, but you did have some good influence on me. For that, the Lord will reward you handsomely. And though I haven’t seen you in about ten years, I know you always asked about me and I’ve done the same. You and Aunt Ames will forever remain in my heart. There’s only one way I can think of you all, and that’s fondly, for at a crucial point in my life, when I needed good guidance, you both provided it to me. I know that after Aunt Ames went home, you lost your zest for life, cause she was your life; she stoked your fire, and I’m sure that you’re happy now. I can see the big smiles on both of your faces as you all reunite in the place that’s heaven. And you’ve certainly received Abraham’s promise: ‘And thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace; thou shalt be buried in a good old age.’  (Gen.15:15) You certainly lived a full life. We’ll all agree that ninety something is a ripe old age for these times. Ah Uncle Aubs, words really can’t convey my loving feelings and gratitude to you and Aunt Ames and your entire family. Chuh! There go those stupid tears again. I’ll just let them flow this time. For as I keep telling my children, without you all, there might have been no them. I can look back now and see the gracious hand of God reaching out to me, showering me with loving kindness, when He brought you all into my life. Thanks ever so much. Much LOVE!…be not forgetful to entertain strangers…for thereby some have entertained angels…